


Alone

by drarryphan



Category: Drarry - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Chaptered, Drarry, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:50:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryphan/pseuds/drarryphan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his fifth year, Draco discovers a mirror which seems to depict Harry Potter. He thinks nothing of it.<br/>In his seventh year, Draco is drawn to a mirror which makes him feel awfully less alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was in year five at Hogwarts that Draco discovered the Mirror of Erised. He remembers the first time he saw it vividly; having been pestering in some random room at an ungodly hour of the night. 

Draco sometimes wanders, feeling the need to find _something_. He always goes alone for if he were to happen himself into danger; maybe- just maybe, it might mean he won’t have to go home for Christmas break with a Father dead set on following a ruthless leader. Perhaps he wouldn’t spend another summer listening to his mother weep when she thought she was alone. And hopefully, he would never spend another day endorsing the facade that was the Malfoy name.

It was in one of these danger seeking adventures that he discovered a pitiful, dusty room, with nothing in it but a mirror. At first, Draco wasn’t even sure what it was- a large sheet was draped over. He had no hesitation to rip the sheet off and didn’t bother to prepare himself for whatever he may face. Instead, he was met with a mirror. Even in the pitch dark, lonesome room, it emanated calmness.

His brow creased, looking over it in haunting wonder. What was it about this mirror that granted it its’ own room? He reached his hand out to it, watching his reflection wearily. Behind him, something moved. He swung around, instantly pointing his wand in the direction it had been in. 

“Who’s there?” Draco’s eyes searched the dark room. He gulped, taking an unsteady step. “ _Lumos Maxima._ ” He flicked his wand towards the blank wall. He spun around, pointing the light into every crevice of the room.

“Damn it.” He said, upon believing that the culprit had gotten away. He turned slowly back to the mirror, jumping at the sight of something in the mirror again. Yet this time, it looked suspiciously like Harry Potter.

And of _course_ it was Harry Potter.

“Potter.” Draco had snarled, turning on his heel. “Thought you could hide from me-”

But again, he was facing an empty room.

“I know you’re there!” He said, stepping forward. His face was cold and hard as he watched the empty room. After uselessly bickering unbeknownst with himself, he shook his head and turned back around. This time, it dawned on him.

“So I can only see you in the mirror, huh?” He asked, peeking over his shoulder to verify. He took a few steps towards the mirror until he was face to face with it. Potter was beside him, a sincere look on his face. Draco laughed. 

“What are you doing, Potter? Follow me here?” Draco was smirking, until he realised that Potter- or whatever was in the mirror- simply couldn’t hear him. The Potter in the mirror stepped closer to Draco, lacing his fingers into Draco’s. Draco was horrified, pushing him off. Except- Draco couldn’t, because Harry wasn’t actually there. 

It dawned quickly on Draco that Harry was only in the mirror, and that the Harry in the mirror could not hear or acknowledge him.

At first, Draco found it funny. Why in the hell was there a stupid empty room in Hogwarts that contained solely a mirror with Harry Potter in it? He watched as the Harry in the mirror tilted his head, seemingly eyeing up Draco. 

“What... What are you doing?” Draco whispered.

The Harry in the mirror smiled again, staring heavily into Draco’s eyes. Draco shook his head.

“No, stop it.” He said sternly, as the Harry in the mirror traced a finger down the Slytherin’s arm. Draco shivered, looking down at his sleeve, and then back into the mirror, where Harry was holding his hand again. 

Draco backed away from the mirror in a daze, before completely abandoning the room for months.

-

In the months following the war, most of the sixth year students were invited to an exceptional based seventh year. Due to the detriments of the war, none of the students had truly completed their schooling well enough to pass. 

Draco was offered, alongside his classmates, to return to Hogwarts. He knew that most of his friends would ditch, and that he wasn’t obligated to go- but for some reason he still went anyways. It beat remorsing with his mother and moving on in his life. 

Another year to figure himself out? Perfect.

-

On an unseasonably cold November day, Draco was drawn back to that peculiar room with the mirror. He wasn’t sure why, but after a particularly rough day he found himself sitting in front of the mirror, wondering it’s purpose other than to confuse him.

The Harry in the mirror had taken to lying in his lap, staring up at him. Draco wasn’t sure why he liked it. _It’s funny- the boy who lived, scarhead, the hero of the wizarding world- smiling at me like I’m something special._ No, that’s not it. As much as he tried, he couldn’t laugh at Potter anymore. He’d given up the rivalry in return for all Potter had done for him in the war.

_It’s nice, not to be alone._

Malfoy tried, he really did, not to visit that room too often. Soon enough, it became his favourite room in the school.


	2. Chapter 2

Pansy Parkinson is a terribly horrible liar. Draco has known this ever since he first met her. She may occasionally have good intentions with her lies, but it’s usually self involved.

For instance, her attempt to get out of going to Hogsmeade with Draco.

“Well, you know how Daphne is. She likes things to be perfect- and she says that three's a crowd. If it weren’t for her you know I’d be going with you. It’s just hard to say no to her. You understand, right?”

Draco absentmindedly nodded. He didn’t buy into her explanation, but he also didn’t bother argue it. 

“Oh, you’re a darling. Next time, yeah?” She smiled, suddenly getting up from the couch she was sitting next to Draco on in the Slytherin common room.

-

Classes have gotten hard. Apparently a year away from school is enough to forget everything. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Draco used to be second in class competing alongside Granger, but now he’s falling down beside the likes of Weasley. 

His professors have noticed but aren’t cutting him any slack. It seems to be that everyone is still bitter about the war. Draco knew there was no use in explaining to them how little he wanted to have been involved. Who would believe a conniving Slytherin merely saying what he knows the people would want to hear?

It’s a shame; Draco used to believe he had a promising future. Now Draco’s not so sure he even _has_ a future at all.

-

“Oh for the love of Merlin,” Draco spoke out bitterly. “Would you all just _shut up_?” 

Draco turned over in his bed for the tenth time, stubbornly holding a pillow to his ear. The Slytherin quidditch team had just won a game against Gryffindor and could simply not control their excitement. Even from his bedroom, Draco could hear the roaring party they were having in the common room.

Due to “complications” Draco was let go from the Slytherin team, replaced by another eager student as seeker. He would have fought it, but he found that these days he wouldn’t have the strength to take another game; no matter how badly he missed it.

And the fact that now, everyone was currently cheering on Blaise after having replaced Draco, was bloody brilliant. Spectacular, truly.

Draco gritted his teeth together. The loud chanting was hypnotizing him into a blind anger. He needed it to stop. 

Pulling himself off of his bed and throwing on his robe, he pointedly took off out of his room and into the common area.

“Everyone, everyone!” Blaise spoke as soon as he spotted Draco. “Here’s the man of the hour!”

Draco paused, mid step.

“If not for Draco’s inconvenient absence, we would never have won!” Blaise doubled over laughing, his friends mimicking the action.

Draco felt his face burn up but spoke with his signature coolness. “I think you’re forgetting that you were up against Gryffindor. Hardly a challenge, really.”

“Seemed to be challenging for you.” Blaise raised an eyebrow.

Draco cleared his throat, ignoring the jab. “I came down to ask you guys to shut up.”

“Draco, honey, what’s getting into you?” Pansy links his arm and drags him away from Blaise.

“Yeah, as if.” Blaise replies to Draco, his attention set back onto his teammates who were currently singing a muggle song.

Draco rips his arm away from Pansy. “Nothing.” 

“First you- you _allow_ them to kick you off the team, and then you come down and ask them to party quieter after winning?” She shakes her head. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine, Panse. Lay off.” Draco looks around the room at his peers. Although somewhat intoxicated and rather ludicrous at the moment, they were all happy, holding so much potential. And they were all so _together_.

“I need some air.” He brushed past her and out of the common room.

“But Draco, it’s already past curfew-”

-

Draco knew the moment that he left the portrait hole that he was going back to that damned room with that damned mirror. He made his way up the familiar stairs, sneaking past a few patrols. He rounded a corner, expecting the usual door to be in it’s place, only to find it missing entirely.

Figures. After all, Hogwarts must despise him. Why not hide an entire room from him?

He grumbles, feeling the wall to make sure it wasn’t hidden. Draco sighs, wandering about in search of the missing room. He hears a noise behind him. Quickly scurrying into the closest corridor and holding his breath: the routine. 

Footsteps approach lightly, and from where he’s hiding his eyes search for whoever is passing by. The footsteps soon pass him, but he hadn’t seen anything. Confused, but not all that concerned, he allots the strange experience to a ghost sauntering the castle.

Brushing off his robe, he steps back into the hallway, following the direction of the footsteps. He can still hear them but there’s no one in sight.

Until suddenly, the footsteps stop altogether. Draco freezes. 

“Malfoy?”

Draco remains quiet, turning away and running.

“Malfoy!” He can’t be sure, but it awfully sounds a lot like Harry Potter calling his name. 

“Hey, you stupid git-” A hand tugs on his shoulder and Draco falls back onto the ground. He looks up at an angry Harry Potter.

“Why were you following me?” He asks, crossing his arms.

“I wasn’t.” Draco stares at the cloak in Harry’s hand. _Oh. Always wanted one of those._

“Yes you were, I saw you.” Harry uncrossed his arms to help him up. Draco didn’t take the offer, preferring to stay on the ground.

“I didn’t even see you. How could I have been following you?” The Slytherin lets his eyes land on the cloak in Harry’s hand. 

“I don’t know, you’re you. That’s what you do, isn’t it?” Harry stuffed the cloak into his pocket.

“You know, I think you’re giving me to much credit here.” Draco says, standing up to tower over him. 

“Where were you going anyways? Isn’t there a party in your dorm? Slytherin vs Gryffindor victory?” Harry is skeptical.

“Does it matter where I was going? I could ask you the same.”

“Well, I was just...” Harry trails off, looking down at his feet.

“Pathetic. Potter, leave me alone, will you?” Draco begins walking away, only to hear another set of footsteps approaching. “ _Merlin._ ”

Draco quickly realizes that he doesn’t have time to hide, and is prepared to bullshit his way out of detention, when he feels a hand cover his mouth. “Shh...” Is what he can hear Harry murmuring. He wants to scream, what was Harry doing? But then he feels the cloak slide over the both of them. Admittedly, it was tight. 

They both watch, wide eyed as Mcgonagall rounds the corner, passing by the two undetected students. Harry is practically hugging him to fit them both under the cloak. 

Draco shakes his head after she’s gone and Harry drops his hand. He tears himself out of the cloak, turning to glare at him.

“Don’t expect me to thank you for that.” 

“You're welcome.” Harry shakes his head and walks away. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know that Draco wasn’t a seeker in his fifth year and that this story of him being “let go” doesn’t add up to the books. Sue me. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys are enjoying this. Let me know what you think, and if you have suggestions I'm open for that.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, Draco, where’d you go off to last night?” Blaise sits down next to Draco for their Potions class. 

Draco responds by ignoring him. Draco reflects remorsefully that the class isn’t the same without Snape.

“Oh? Something you’re not telling us? It’s a simple question.” Blaise persists.

Draco hums silently to himself, completely pretending that he- and everyone else in the room for that matter- simply did not exist.

“Was it a girl? Oh that’s interesting. Draco vanishing during a Slytherin party mysteriously to fuck a... Ravenclaw? Maybe you found a sweet Hufflepuff?” Blaise stares at Draco, nearly admiring his ability to not react. Remarkable.

“Or maybe a Gryffindor is more your type?” Blaise’s eyebrows raise up in mock-surprise. Draco slowly turns to look at Blaise, a glare deadpanning on his face.

“Fuck off, Blaise.”

Blaise gulps, the murderous yet placid look on his face taking him by surprise. His demeanor shrinks instantly. “I, I was just joking, Draco. Chill.”

Draco tears his eyes away from Blaise, not once looking over to him for the remainder of class. 

Professor Slughorn announces that he needs someone to hand out their recent tests. Granger’s hand, expectedly, shoots up instantly. Slughorn smiles apprehensively, and the mudblo- shit- Granger runs up to the front of the class to distribute the papers. 

For what reason Slughorn never uses magic to pass out papers is astounding. Does he just _forget_ that he’s a wizard? Draco grumbles to himself as Granger makes her way over to him. He knows that Granger will peak to see her rivals grade. 

“Here you go.” Granger slides the paper onto Draco’s desk. Not missing a beat, Draco stuffs the paper into his bag. He looks up to see a curious expression on her face and he restrains from scowling at her. When she notices that she’s been staring she hurries off.

Draco releases a breath. He’d managed to get a D. 

-

“This is...” Slughorn sighs. “I don’t understand. You were always a top student, Draco.”

Draco internally cringed at the sound of Slughorn addressing him by his first name. 

“How is this even possible? Don’t tell me you’ve been cheating your way through school but stopped now.”

Draco scoffed. Cheating? Preposterous! 

“I have never and will never cheat, Professor.” 

Slughorn sighs again, the noise filling the air uncomfortably. “Very well. So you’ve just stopped caring, then?”

“No, Professor. I haven’t.”

“Well? What’s changed? One doesn’t go from Exceeding Expectations to Dreadful overnight.” 

What Draco _wanted_ to point out was that it had in fact _not_ happened overnight. That there was indeed an entire fucking war that took place, which _may_ have affected him.

Instead, he looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling a strong amount of shame. His voice was unsteady and definitely not Malfoy-like when he spoke.

“I don’t know.” He managed.

Slughorn wasn’t surprised by his answer, however. “You don’t know?” He laughed.

Draco bit back the urge to run, or hex him, or _something_. God, how he hated feeling vulnerable.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen.” Slughorn begins, standing from his chair and starting to pack up his things. “You’re going to find a tutor.”

“But sir-”

“No. You are going to find a tutor, and if you cannot accomplish this task then I will find you a tutor.” 

Draco gulped. A tutor? How much humiliation can he take?

“And if you refuse help, then I’ll just have to allow you to fail.” Slughorn shrugs. Great pep talk.

Draco eyes the door, planning to excuse himself.

“Draco,” The Professor continues. “It doesn’t do to refuse my offer. I know that these days there aren’t many people offering you a helping hand.”

Well, if you put it into words, that might be the nice way of saying it.

Slughorn grimaces at the vacant look on Draco’s face before hardening. “Don’t bite the hand that tries to feed you.”

-

Hermione’s often curious and at times invasive gaze- she may argue it to be “observatory”- finds itself on one Draco Malfoy. More specifically, she watches him walk into the Great Hall (alone-noted), sit down apart from his friends (potential complications there-noted), and she continues to stare at him until Ron, _Ron_ \- notices. 

Ron looks up from his current devouring of a piece of roast chicken. His brow furrows, watching Hermione’s steady and unmoving contemplation at something behind him.

“Hermione?” He asks, licking his lips, using the moment for her answer to take a sip of his pumpkin juice. 

Her eyes don’t move until her head is directed at him. Even then, her eyes do not keep contact with Ron, but whatever is behind him.

“Hm?” Is her response.

“What are you staring at?” Ron frowns.

As if Hermione has waken from a trance, she rips her eyes away from Malfoy and returns it to her friends.

“It’s just...” She trails off.

“Must be important if Hermione can’t form a full sentence.” Harry interjects. Hermione shoots him a look.

“Malfoy didn’t greet his friends. Actually, he didn’t even sit next to them at all.” 

Ron groans. “Oh not this again. You’re starting to sound like Harry.”

“Hey-” Harry begins.

“Sorry mate. You were obsessed.” Ron pats Harry’s shoulder. Harry “hmphs”.

“Ron, shut up. I’m serious.” Hermione continues. “He- He’s-”

“So what if he didn’t greet his friends? Everyone’s allowed their space.” Ron detracts.

“I think there’s something wrong with him.” She says decisively. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Of course there’s something wrong with him. He’s _Malfoy_.”

“Yes, I’m aware. This is different.” Hermione peaks over Ron’s shoulder again.

“And so?” Ron shakes his head. 

“You think he’s planning something?” Harry says, more eagerly.

“No. I don’t know what to think. It just concerns me. And look!” Hermione’s brow furrows as she undoubtedly stares at Malfoy. “He’s hasn’t even touched his food!”

Ron resists the urge to hex the brat just for being on Hermione’s mind. 

“Okay, so Malfoy doesn’t sit with his friends and isn’t hungry. Tell me again why this is so troublesome?” Harry peaks over his shoulder to look as well. All he sees is Malfoy, nothing different about him. He’s miserable, clearly, but wasn’t that as per normal?

Hermione sighs, leaning over the table to whisper. “He failed a test in Potions.” She watches their non-reaction and explains. “He usually gets grades just below or on par with mine.” Hermione sits up straight again.

“I don’t know, Hermione. It seems you’re looking too far into this.” Ron grumbles.

“Perhaps.” She frowns.

Harry turns around again, to see Malfoy leaving the Great Hall. There’s no confidence in his step and his eyes are glued to the floor. Maybe, just maybe, something’s wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have some apologizing to do. It has been _far_ too long since I have updated- and I am truly sorry. I was in a bit of a rut and had a hard time deciding where to go with the story. That said, you will be happy to know that I've planned out the story now and there is so, so much coming. You guys aren't ready.
> 
> I'll continue with a light chapter- but there is more coming, soon!

Draco sulks around the castle aimlessly, passing by happy Hufflepuffs talking about some muggle celebrity and Slytherins talking about a house party they’re holding. He considers Slughorn’s suggestion of finding a tutor. How humiliating would _that_ be? A Slytherin begging someone to study with him. Who _would_ study with him? No, he’ll... deal with it like any proper Slytherin- stubbornly, and by himself.

After wandering in an unfamiliar part of the castle, Draco can’t help but admit that he is lost. Frightfully so. He turns a corner only to see the same architecture and layout of the last hallway. Eventually, he decides to pause and think about it. Should he turn back? Will this lead him to a dead end? Shit- he’s not sure.

Draco passes by a door, that, while similar to every other door in the hallway, seems familiar. He peers inside the room to find that damned mirror again. 

He resigns himself to an evening with Potter and steps into the room. He rips the cloak off of the mirror, and finds himself relaxing at the sight of the silent Gryffindor instantly.

“Well Potter,” Draco sighs, sitting on the ground in front of the glass. The Potter in the glass tilts his head and smiles. “We meet again.” 

Draco plays with dust gathering on the floor and fumbles with his robes. “Do you think I have potential?” He finds himself saying, in a small and reserved voice.

Draco laughs. “Why would you? You hate me. Well, anyway, I do have dreams. Did you know that I paint? Not the Wizarding kind either. It’s the one muggle thing I like.” 

Draco looks back into the mirror, to see Potter blinking at him. “My Father hates it. He found me doing it once and vanquished all of my art supplies. My Mother isn’t entirely supportive either, she doesn’t really get it, I guess. But she let’s me use one of her rooms in the manor to paint every once in awhile. God, I suck at it though.” Draco pauses. “I think the reason I like it so much is because it’s a skill, or a talent more like- unlike magic that’s concise and memorizable- that takes time and patience. It’s something I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to be good at, and that makes me want it so much more.”

Draco sighs. The Potter in the mirror puts his arms around Draco’s reflection and lies his head in the crook of the Slytherin’s neck. By this point, Draco is barely concerned or affected by this image.

“I want to go to an art school. A muggle art school. Can you imagine? A Malfoy in a muggle school? I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to behave.” Draco shakes his head and blushes at the sight of Potter kissing his temple. “There’s this one academy in Berlin I was looking at.”

Draco lies back on the floor and looks up at the ceiling. “You know I use to find this strange. Talking to a fake reflection of Harry Potter, the golden boy. We’ve always fought and hated each other. Well, I never _actually_ hated you, but I liked to pretend I did.” 

The Harry in the mirror lies down next to Draco as well.

“I suppose it’s suiting to tell your arch-nemesis your deepest secrets. Why would I tell anyone else? I probably trust you more than anyone. But what am I saying... _you_ aren’t even real. Harry Potter is never going to know I said this and I’ll go back to wasting my life.”

Draco stands suddenly, as if waking from a stupor. He throws the cloak back onto the mirror and leaves the room.


	5. Chapter 5

After years of torment, ridicule and relentless teasing, Harry Potter has decided to be kind to Draco Malfoy. Or rather, Hermione told Harry that if he _isn’t_ kind to Malfoy that she’ll stop lending him her notes to cram before tests. And so, with good intentions in mind, Harry takes a seat next to Malfoy and attempts to be civil. He reckons it won’t be easy and that the git will probably hex him for not reciprocating their usual antics. Perhaps maybe then Hermione will drop the crusade and continue lending him her notes without impossible conditions.

“Hey.” Harry says after Malfoy doesn’t acknowledge him. The Slytherin looks over his shoulder and then back at his notebook. Harry frowns slightly.

Slughorn begins the lesson by demonstrating the effects of a Babbling Beverage. Neville is selected to demonstrate and makes a fool of himself, talking about seahorses and frog helmets and toe ticklers. Harry smiles, expecting Malfoy to comment.

Harry looks over at Malfoy, but the Slytherin is just staring off into blank space. What could he possibly be thinking about that trumps being witness to a Gryffindor embarrassing himself? Harry nudges him with his elbow but Malfoy just sighs.

When class is dismissed Malfoy stalks out of the room quickly and out of sight. Harry frowns again before catching up with Hermione and explaining that he’d tried. For some reason, there was something very off about him, and Harry had to find out why.

-

“Can we _please_ go to Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop?” Hermione isn’t usually one to beg, but on this particular Hogsmeade trip, apparently she’s making an exception. “Please, Ron?”

“Oh fine! But we’re going to Honeydukes right after.” Ron negotiates.

“You coming Harry?” Hermione looks over, smiling.

“No, that’s alright. You kids have fun.” Harry smiles, waving as they walk into the shop. Harry remembers going there with Cho Chang all those years ago. It’s usually filled with couples and the thought alone makes him want to vomit.

Harry wanders about by himself for a while, before deciding to go to the Hog’s Head Inn. He figures it would be his best bet at scoring some decent alcohol.

He walks into the pub and, as is the usual, everyone goes silent for a moment. Quietly, people resume talking. Aberforth, Dumbledore’s brother, greets him with a nod from behind the bar. 

“You want anything? I’ve got Knotgrass Mead on tap.” Aberforth sets out a beer glass in front of Harry.

“That’ll be great, thanks.” Harry smiles.

“You here alone?” Aberforth continues, looking over Harry’s shoulder as if he may be harboring a fugitive.

“Yup.” Harry sits down at the bar. The man in front of him nods, pouring his beer. Harry pulls out his money to pay but Aberforth rejects it.

“On the house; but the next one is double the price.” Aberforth winks. Harry takes a swig from the beer. It’s strong- the kind Hagrid likes. 

Harry looks around at the people in the pub. There aren’t all that many. There’s a bald man sitting next to a dark haired woman, a man with a very crooked nose, as well as a mop of blonde hair-

Well would you look at that- Draco Malfoy. The blonde is sitting in the farthest booth at the back of the pub. Harry nods to Aberforth who watches wearily as he makes his way to the back of the room

_Civil. Be civil._

“Hey Malfoy.”

Malfoy looks up and blinks. “Fancy seeing you here, Potter.”

Harry smiles. “Can I sit?”

Malfoy’s eyes narrow. “You’ll probably do so whether I say yes or no.”

“You’re probably right.” Harry says as he dumps himself in the seat across from him. “I mean, there’s no point in us both being alone.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” 

Harry pauses to think. “Well it’s rather lonely, don’t you think?”

Malfoy nods and lowers his eyes. Harry taps his fingers on his leg. 

“So where’s the other two?” Malfoy inquires. 

“Ron and Hermione? At some tea shop.” Harry’s face shrivels in disgust. Malfoy nods- the infamous tea shop where couples go to be coupley together. _Grangers idea, no doubt._

They sit in silence for a while before Harry clears his throat, searching for a topic.

“Nice weather, huh?” Smooth, Harry.

Malfoy raises an eyebrow. “I suppose it is.”

“Makes me want to play Quidditch.” Harry smiles as he thinks about it, before realizing. “Oh shit.”

“It’s alright.” Malfoy waves his hand and shrugs.

“Sorry.” Harry frowns, regretting his decision to sit with Malfoy. Well, it’s his fault he can’t keep up a damn conversation.

“So what are you doing here? Don’t you usually go to the Three Broomsticks?” Malfoy is skeptical.

“Too many people recognize me there. Besides, they have better beer here.” Harry says, as Malfoy snickers. “What?”

“Of course you go for _that_ beer.”

“And what beer do you prefer?” Harry crosses his arms.

“Oh, Malfoy’s don’t drink beer. We prefer the delicacy of our own wine. That beer you’re drinking is just a cheap excuse for alcohol.” Malfoy smirks.

“I bet it takes you all night to drink that little glass of wine while I drink 10 of these.” Harry takes a large gulp of his beer to prove his point.

“You’re on.” Malfoy’s eyes light up and he takes a sip of his Superior Red wine.

-

Potter has been rambling about muggle things for over half an hour. As fascinating as “cars” and “dishwashers” sound, Draco would rather _not_ be sober when he is informed about them.

“God, this isn’t doing anything.” Draco swirled his third glass of wine around, stopping a buzzed Potter in the middle of a sentence. As he continues speaking, Draco reaches into a pocket in his robe and pulls out a flask. 

“And I suppose it depends on the type of television but they all just seem so staticy to m-” Potter’s eyes light up. “Is that-?”

Draco takes a sip of it, relishing in the burn. He passes it over to Potter, who marvels at it. 

“Firewhiskey.” Draco smirks.

“What happened to the Malfoy fam’ly wine?” Potter takes a large sip, his face making a funny reaction that Draco finds endearing.

“Not strong enough to listen to _you_ for extended periods of time.” Draco grabs the flask back and takes another swig. _I like it better when you don’t talk at all, actually_.

It takes him a while to register, but Potter protests that his story was plenty good, and that he should be relishing in his “remarkable” company.

“Give me that.” Potter reaches over the table, grabbing at the flask in Draco’s hand. In doing so his hand brushes against Draco’s. Potter doesn’t seem to notice or mind but Draco inadvertently blushes and pulls his hand away.

The Gryffindor proceeds to hog the flask for a while. “I think Ginny and Luna are, you know...” 

Draco hums a song his Mother used to sing to him.

“I saw ‘em out in the courtyard real close.” Potter nods. Draco wonders if he should console him. Weren’t Potter and the girl Weasley an item? 

“They could just be friends.” Draco suggests. 

Potter leans over the table, as if telling a secret. “They were _real close_.” Draco raises his eyebrows, not to the revelation but to how close Potter is to his face. He can feel his breath on his cheek. Draco sits back in his seat as far as he can. He realizes that Potter is holding very consistent eye contact. Draco looks away.

“And does that bother you?” Draco asks after Potter has retreated back to his seat and pushed the flask away from him.

Potter looks surprised. “Me? No! Of course not! I’m not a homophobic.”

Draco sighs. “That’s not entirely what I meant-”

“I mean, love is love, right? Who cares if it’s a girl an’ a girl, or, or even a guy and, and another guy?” Potter hiccups. 

Draco is a little surprised. He chews on the side of his lip. Why did he have to bring _that_ up? He decides to take a large swig from his flask. 

“You not a fan?” Potter cocks his head in curiosity.

“A fan of homosexuality?” Draco can’t believe he’s having this conversation.

Potter nods eagerly.

“Well I’m not _not_ a fan, I just-” Draco is cut off by the realization that Potters attention has been redirected to looking out the booth’s window and watching an owl fly around.

“I miss Hedwig.” Potter frowns. Draco watches as the Gryffindor turns back to him and sighs. _His eyes are a really nice shade of green._ Draco resists a sudden urge to reach out and grab the others hand.

“Here.” Draco passes his flask back to Potter. He contemplates Potter’s rough hands, and what they might feel like. He’s starting to feel dizzy. 

A good dizzy.

“You’re not so bad company, you know that?” Draco slurs. And that was all it took; Potter was smiling again. 

“Really?” Potter asks. Draco matches his smile. ”But- but you hate me.”

“I do?” Draco is confused. How could he hate such pretty eyes? “I think you’re lying.” Draco concludes, crossing his arms.

“Well I am good at it.” Potter laughs.

Draco’s head is spinning. “Good at what?” 

“Good at lying! Sometimes.” Potter giggles.

“Oh.” Draco pauses, and then laughs with him. “Some noble Gryf’ndor _you_ are.”

“You will find that I can be _very_ noble.” Potter continues laughing. 

“You should show me.” Draco smiles, the alcohol buzzing his entire body.

“Okay.” Potter agrees, pointing a finger in his direction. “Noble you get.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter, and that it was maybe a little less sad than the previous one! The end part is a little confusing- I was going for that. Drunks don't usually make an awful lot of sense.


	6. Chapter 6

It is far past curfew by the time Draco and Harry leave the pub. By this point, they are both pissed drunk, and _still_ drinking from Draco’s seemingly never-ending flask. _”I charmed it with Capacious extremis.”_

The two can barely walk straight. Draco is faring a little better than Harry, who has currently fallen on the ground. Draco bursts out laughing like a lunatic. He even points as if there’s a crowd around. “Potty fell off his training wheels.”

Harry laughs as well. Draco sways a little, nearly falling over himself.

“Woah, you’re so _tall_.” Harry remarks.

“Really?” Draco is excited. “Because to me _you_ look _really_ short.”

“No, but from here-” Harry is cut off by Draco lying down next to Harry to try and find the same vantage point.

“I don’t see it.” Draco says dumbly.

“Me either.” Harry marvels.

The two boy’s shoulders are touching, but neither seem to notice.

“There’s a lots of stars.” Draco blinks up at the sky. “My Mother used to say that stars are ‘romantic’.”

Harry looks over to Draco and they meet eye contact. “Did you know that some of ‘em are already dead?” Harry interjects. 

“That’s what makes them so romantic. You can see them, but you don’t know which one’s are there. A metaphor, I think.”

“I don’t get it.” Harry stares back up at the sky, confused.

“I’ll explain it when I’m not drunk.” Draco closes his eyes and smiles. After a few minutes, he feels as though he’s about to fall asleep. “Do you think I could Accio a bed?”

Harry ponders the question. “You might break a window if you tried that.” At this, Draco’s smile only widens. Harry looks over to the Slytherin and watches how peaceful he is. Draco’s breathing is slow and steady, and there’s a small smile playing at his lips. And his eyes are closed.

Harry nudges Draco’s shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“Why not?” Draco mumbles.

Harry has a hard time answering the question, but settles with, “because we’re outside!” But to Draco, that hardly seems like a sound argument.

Harry watches him for a few more moments before wobbling onto his feet. “Up. Get up. Come on.” Harry reaches down and grabs both of Draco’s wrists, trying to pull him up. The stupid git won’t move. Harry sighs, dropping him and changing tactics.

“If you don’t get up I’ll declare you a lightweight.” Harry crosses his arms.

Draco’s eyes shoot open and he sits up. He stumbles up and forward, crashing into Harry, who then falls over.

“Who’s the lightweight now?” Draco smirks.

Harry grumbles, but Draco extends his arm and he grabs it. They both stand, looking at the landscape like idiots.

“Right. Which way’s the castle?”

-

After managing to get into the castle unseen with Harry’s brilliant idea of using his invisibility cloak, the two make their way down to the dungeon. Draco cast an Engorgement charm on the cloak to make it easier for the two of them to walk. Still though, the two lean on each other for support as they navigate the halls. Harry has his arm around Draco’s shoulder and Draco has his arm around Harry’s waist.

“Here we are.” Harry smiles as they reach the portrait to the Slytherin common room. 

“Wait. Did you just-” Draco looks around, confused. “Did I just let you walk me home?”

Harry blushes. “How noble.”

Draco shakes his head. “That’s not noble! It’s - it’s chivalrous- and it’s something a _Slytherin_ does, not a _Gryffindor_!”

“Since when are Slytherin’s chivalrous?” Harry crosses his arms. 

Draco grins. “Since now.”

Harry shakes his head. “Well we’re here, so you might as well-”

But Draco has other ideas. He grabs Harry’s hand and leads him towards Gryffindor tower. 

“Is this necessary?” Harry asks, and can’t help but giggle. 

Draco turns back with a sincere look on his face. “Yes. Completely.”

In the back of Harry’s mind he imagines that this had been a date. He’s not entirely sure where that thought came from, but he isn’t quick to dismiss it.

In no time, the two are standing outside the Fat Lady’s portrait. They take off the cloak and she awakes with a start. There is a grumpy distaste on her face as she eyes the Slytherin.

“My my, don’t tell me you’re gonna let _that_ lot in here!” The Lady complains.

Harry ignores her and turns back to Draco. “I had fun.”

Draco beams at Harry. “Goodnight, Potter.”

They let go of each other and Harry puts the cloak in Draco’s arms. “Return this later.”

“Now _that_ was noble,” Draco compliments. “thank you.”

If Draco were sober he might have felt astonished that Harry was trusting him with something so valuable. Harry says the password which is soon forgotten by the elated Slytherin. Draco leaves after Harry has vanished into Gryffindor tower.

He stumbles back down to the dungeons with a stupid smile on his face. In the common room he finds Blaise on the couch, looking at him strangely.

Draco pauses, debating whether he is hallucinating him or not.

“I heard you... talking to someone.” Blaise mumbles. Okay, not a hallucination.

Draco plays dumb. “No you didn’t.”

Blaise stands up and inspects his unsteady housemate. “Are you drunk?”

Draco rolls his eyes. “No.”

Blaise sighs. “You’re such an idiot. We have class tomorrow.”

Draco hardly sees this as a problem. After being shooed to bed, Draco stumbles to his room and falls asleep instantly.

-

“Blaise? What’s all the commotion about?” A tired, sleep deprived Pansy enters the common room.

Blaise considers lying for his friend, but he isn’t sure what it is that he’s covering up. Pansy yawns and wipes her eyes. “Well?”

“I heard Draco talking to Potter, and they were both drunk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you're liking this so far. Comments, concerns and suggestions are welcome! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Oh dear fucking merlin. 

_No._

This is all Potter’s fault, if you think about it. He’s the one who came and sat with Draco when he was perfectly fine by himself. If it hadn’t been for Potter, Draco wouldn’t currently be hungover taking a test.

_I can’t afford to fail anything else._

Draco considers faking an illness to get out of class. The test is handed out, by Granger no less, and the Slytherin sucks in a breath before reading over the test.

Shit. This is worse than he anticipated. Draco wonders if any of this was even brought up in class at all. It would probably help if he’d been caught up in his reading.

Draco looks around the classroom helplessly. Pansy glances up and meets his gaze, striking him a not so empathetic smile. Draco scowls at her. In the front of the classroom, Slughorn sends a steady look over at Draco that has him looking back at his test quickly.

Finally, Draco finds a question that seems vaguely familiar and begins bullshitting something that resembles answer. After completing the question to what is currently the best of his ability, he sits back. 

Damn it. Why had he even gotten drunk with _Potter_ in the first place? His head is absolutely throbbing. 

After falling asleep briefly, Draco is kicked by Pansy on her way to hand in her completed test. He awakes with a start and rubs his eyes. Damn her stupid test taking abilities. How is Potter faring? Draco peeks a look over his shoulder, finding that the Gryffindor seems to be doing okay.

“Damn him.” Draco mutters to himself, a little louder than expected. A few look over with questioning eyes. Slughorn clears his throat and raises an eyebrow at Draco.

“Mr. Malfoy. Surely if you have time to talk, you must be done?” Slughorn smiles in triumph. 

Draco sighs. He stands and walks towards the Professor's desk, despite not having attempted many of the questions. He hands the test over unashamedly. 

“Your eyes are red.” Slughorn comments.

Draco nods. “Up all night.”

“Studying, I hope.” Slughorn smirks as he looks over the poorly answered test. “Excellent, I should expect good results.” 

-

“Hey! Malfoy!” Harry runs to catch up with Draco after he’d bolted from the classroom. 

Draco sighs heavily, pausing briefly so that he can catch up after having ignored him multiple times. “What?”

“I just- are you alright? You look rather-” Harry cuts himself off before saying disheveled. Because honestly, saying tired or hungover doesn't suit it when he still looks so-

“Potter, please do me a favour and fuck off.” A few people pause in the hallways to look at Harry. A first year looks ready to pick a fight - clearly not accustomed to the _Malfoy regime_ that _had_ been relatively quiet this year until now. Harry nods them off, only to look back at Draco and see that his face had changed in the moment he’d been looking away. 

Harry watches for the small second where he can see Draco’s unguarded facial expression. He’s definitely disheveled, and probably hungover (unless his roommates were as kind as his to have hangover remedy on hand), but there’s also something... else. Something thoughtful, melancholic, maybe even sad. Harry can’t quite decipher it fully before the blonde’s gaze snaps out of oblivion to glare at the Gryffindor that dare offer support.

“Should we talk about last night?” Harry surprises himself as he says it, regretting it immediately.

Draco’s eyebrow raises for a split second; why couldn’t they just pretend it never happened? He squints his eyes and narrows them at Harry. “What’s there to talk about? We spoke. We drank. That’s it.”

“Uh...” Harry says, a loss of words as he nods his head in agreement.

Draco hesitates for a moment, staring quizzically into Harry’s eyes - causing a minor breathing hitch on the Gryffindors part - before barging past him with a small huff of annoyance and a slight shove to his shoulder.

Harry frowns. “Prat.” He says under his breath. 

-

“Hermione, come on, please?” Ron whines.

“Ron. You already ate it, didn’t you?” Hermione is strict, crossing her arms with a locked gaze on the culprit.

“I did not- no! I wouldn’t just eat any old thing I found...” Ron babbles on, defending himself, however terribly.

Harry laughs. “Hermione, you did leave it somewhere that he might find it. You’re half to blame.”

“Ha!” Ron says. “It _was_ for me!”

“It was supposed to be an extra Christmas gift!” Hermione pouts, then narrows her eyes. In a louder, and much scarier voice; “ _Was_?”

Ron looks to Harry for help but Harry just shakes his head. He’s basically been caught red handed. Even if it was just a chocolate frog - Hermione will give him grief about respecting and not taking (or in this case, eating) things you find in common space.

The three of them arrive at the portrait for their common. Ron quickly says the password, eager to get away from Hermione’s hovering lecture. 

“Ah, Harry. Good to see you’re doing better than last night.” The Fat Lady smiles, not yet opening the door for them. 

His two friends look over at him questioningly. The portrait continues on, “And it’s even better to see that you’ve lost that god awful lad-” 

“Thanks, really. But if you could just open the door- we have a lot of homework to do.”

“What god awful lad?” Ron blurts.

“Doing better than last night? Harry, was something wrong?” Hermione frowns.

The Fat Lady smiles at the support of Harry’s friends while he himself squirms. “Please open the door.” He whispers.

The door swings open and she nods at him as he runs through, his friends on his heel.

“You know I think I’m going to go to bed-” Harry starts.

“Mate, what is she talking about?” Ron asks.

Harry stops. Sighing, he turns to face them. “It’s nothing really. And I was fine! I’d just had a few beers to drink, is all.”

Hermione nods patiently. “And who was with you?”

Harry feigns his best reactionary lying face. “I don’t know. She must’ve been seeing things.”

“Or maybe someone followed you!” Ron conspiritzes. “If you were drunk - maybe they thought they could get into the Gryffindor common room if you didn’t notice! I wonder if they’re still here.”

Harry shakes his head. “Don’t worry Ron, no one followed me in.”

Hermione stares at him silently. 

“But still-” Ron tries.

“I’m gonna go to the dorm.” Harry turns around, disappearing up the stairs. Ron moves to follow him but Hermione reaches out to stop him.

“Leave him be.”

Ron is flabbergasted. “Leave him be! Don’t you think this is suspicious? And we _know_ it isn’t past Harry to lie and keep things from us!”

“I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready.” Hermione frowns. “He must know who was here with him though. Why would he be covering that up?

“It must’ve been someone bad. The Fat Lady likes just about everyone. Even Peeves!” Ron huffs.

“That’s right. There’s something strange about this.”

Ron thinks for a moments and chuckles. “The only “ _god awful lad_ ” that I know of is _Malfoy_.” 

Hermione contemplates this for a moment, before laughing as well. “What would he be doing here?”

Ron shrugs. “I bet he has a crush on someone in Gryffindor and was trying to impress them by sneaking in.”

Hermione laughs at the thought.

“Oh no. What if he likes you?” Ron cries, hugging her to “protect her”.

“God Ron, I’m the last person he would like!” Hermione shrugs him off but reaches her hand into his.

Ron smiles. “Yeah.” And then after a moment. “I bet he’d like Harry before he’d like you.”

Hermione isn’t sure if she should take that as a compliment or insult, but smiles nonetheless. Somehow, the suggestion doesn’t seem all that far-fetched. Her smile fades into anger once she remembers the chocolate frog.

Ron notices and quickly ducks away from her, running up the stairs. "Night, Hermione!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the delay (yet again). I feel like I just promised you more recent updates and then spat in your face. Sorry :3
> 
> I have been very busy though and I'm sure you guys understand.
> 
> Hope you like this chapter! Let me know what you think ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Draco sighs a little as he flops down onto his bed after such a long day. He feels a little uncomfortable and sits up, only to realise that he is sitting on Potter’s invisibility cloak. He stands up and retrieves it, marvelling at it. He smiles softly, having forgotten the Gryffindor’s kind act. _That’s probably why he was so eager to talk to me this morning - he’d wanted it back. Damn it._ Draco’s smile diminishes.

Draco sits back down, looking at how his lap disappears when he sets it down. It’s no wonder that he’s doing so badly in school if he can get distracted so easily.

Just then, Blaise barges into the room and makes his way over to his own bed - which just so happens to be right beside Draco’s. Draco nearly throws the cloak off his lap and tries to hide it behind himself but it’s too late.

“What’chya hidin?” Blaise smiles.

Draco scrambles to look collected. “Nothing.”

“Does _nothing_ usually make your lap invisible?” Blaise smirks.

Draco sighs, pulling the fabric from behind him. If he continues to lie from this point on it’ll only make things worse. 

“Let me see it,” Blaise reaches out his hand demandingly. Draco raises it a bit, turning half his body invisible, before folding it again.

“There. You saw it.”

“No. I mean- just hand it over.” Blaises hand wiggles impatiently.

“Sorry. It’s not mine. I’m not going to risk you running off with it.” Draco says impatiently.

Blaise rolls his eyes. “Of course you’d steal something like that.”

“I didn’t steal it.” Draco pauses. “I’m just... borrowing it. With permission.”

“Ah, so this is Potter’s cloak.”

“No it’s not. Sod off Blaise.” Draco is suddenly assaulted with his drunken memory of Blaise accusing him of talking with Potter. He cringes.

Blaise stands up. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

Draco splutters, a blush rising onto his cheeks. “What?”

“It’s was written all over your face yesterday. You looked so... happy. It was disgusting, honestly.”

“I’m not,” Draco pauses to reflect on how terrible it is that he even has to correct him on this. “ _”Sleeping”_ with Harry Potter! Do you think I’ve lost my mind? Have _you_ lost your mind?”

Blaise watches him for a moment. “Okay. If you’re not sleeping with him, then give me the cloak.”

Draco frowns, looking down at the cloak in his hands. Harry had - _however drunkenly_ \- trusted him with what must be a priceless article of his. Although, Blaise is right, why should he be protecting something of his? 

Draco pushes down his resentment for Blaise and his impeccable timing before deciding that, for whatever reason, Blaise wasn’t going to lay a finger on it.

“I’m not handing this cloak over, and that’s final.” Malfoy says as he stands to leer over him. 

Blaise smiles. “So you admit-”

“I’m not admitting anything. And you won’t tell anyone anything, because there’s nothing to tell.” Draco thinks fast. “This cloak belongs to one of my fa-” Draco stops himself before saying _Father_ and clears his throat. “One of my family's allies, an ally with which we would rather not burn. Having your slimy hands all over it would degrade it instantly, don’t you think?” Draco finishes with his signature smirk, familiarity in his harsh words rushing forward like a storm.

Blaise is taken aback, narrowing his eyes before looking away, contemplating the blonde’s statement. “Fine. That just means I’m going to have to work extra hard to catch you guys in the act. Have it your way.” 

After Blaise rushes out of the dorm, Draco sighs a breath of relief. He looks down at the cloak in his hands, wondering when exactly he’ll get to return the cloak. The slytherin closes his eyes for a moment, thinking about that stupid git. What had possessed him to sit with him and get drunk? Better yet, why had he let him? Deep down, Draco feels as though he may have answers to these questions, but he doesn’t let himself get that far. 

Draco lays back on his bed, wondering what might cause a Slytherin to stick up for a lowly Gryffindork. The memory of a drunken Potter, lying down in the grass with him, pointing stupidly at the stars, surfaces. He involuntarily smiles. The sound of another roommate approaching stirs Draco out of his stupor and he erases the images from his mind.

-

Harry grimaces as Hermione scowls for the fourth time in a row. 

“Alright?” Harry asks, looking up from his Herbology essay.

Hermione flips a page in her textbook desperately. Harry has never seen her this stressed over studying. “Hermione?”

Hermione slams her fist down, frustrated. “I have five projects to complete, three tests to study for, and a particularly pensive entrance exam for Gonathul Academy.” Hermione frowns. “But other than that I’m just peachy.”

Harry smiles sympathetically. “Most of the items you listed aren’t due for weeks.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “And I won’t be able to rest until they’re completed at my highest standard.” She unconsciously chews her nails. Ron rushes into the back shelves of the restricted part of the library, breathless, holding a piece of paper above his head. 

“This,” he pants, watching his two friends’ surprised faces. “Is the most valuable thing I own.”

Hermione and Harry exchange a glance before Harry rips the piece of paper out of his friends hand.

“Acromantula?” Harry reads. “What’s this?”

Ron is exasperated. “Shhhh! Someone might hear you!”

Hermione glances around. “We’re the only ones in here-”

“Still! This is-” Ron lowers his voice. “This is _top secret enemy information._ ”

Harry’s eyes widen and stands up, patting Ron on the back. “Slytherin common room password! How did you get this?”

Ron blushes. “That’s not important.” 

Hermione’s eyes narrow. “Ronald,” She growls. “How did you get this?”

“Alright, alright! Merlin, it’s not like I killed anyone, calm down.” Ron settles himself leaning against the bookcase. “I fought a snake for it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to believe you,” Harry starts. Ron laughs, shaking his head. “It’s a one day pass. It won’t work today - only on Friday. The slytherin’s are hosting a party.”

“ _And they invited you?_ ” Both Harry and Hermione say in unison.

Ron scoffs. “I’ll have you know that there’s one brunette in that house that finds me particularly handsome.” 

Hermione crosses her arms, trying to hide a pout. “Who’s this then?”

Rons face softens. “Sophie - don’t worry, I let her down easy. After obtaining the password, of course.”

Hermione’s face brightens before she looks back at her assignments and sighs. “I won’t be able to go.”

“Hermione, you have to go! Who else will I kiss if we play spin the bottle?” Ron grumbles.

“Mate, I don’t think you get to choose when you play that game, which I think is the point.” Harry interjects, but is ignored.

“Besides,” Ron continues. “You deserve a day off every once in awhile! I mean, you’re human, aren’t you? And what human doesn’t need to unwind?”

Hermione considers this. “It may be good to relax for a bit.”

Harry agrees. “All this stressing won’t add anything to your studying. This may be what we all need.”

Hermione looks over at her books, and back to her expectant friends. “Okay.” She throws her hands up. “I can afford one night of fun.”

-

_Dear Draco,_

_I must be quick. From now on, you need look after yourself. I’m sure things have been hard for you, especially with the shift in dynamics as Lucius was imprisoned. I won’t call him your Father anymore and it would do well for you to move on as well. I doubt that you would, but don’t write him or consider him, ever. Not seeing you this summer was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Please know that._

_You must always succeed and put yourself first. Be wary of those around you and those that you feel you might want to trust - that is where weakness begins. But Draco, know that in order to lead a fulfilling life, you will have to trust people, and you will learn to love your weaknesses. You have me, always._

_Love,_  
_Mother._

Draco remembers fighting tears when he was forced to live in hiding, all alone, all summer. His Mother wouldn’t allow him to be seen with her, something about her image being too tainted, and that he needed to get out of the public eye. She thought people may still think of her as a loyal Death Eater. No one would ever know how much she hated Voldemort, and even her own husband - for following him so loyally. As alone as Draco is, he knows that his Mother is facing much worse consequences. She’d lost the man she loved, her friends, her allies, and even her son. He closes his eyes, vowing to write her back in the morning.

-

 _Oh get a fucking life. And maybe some taste, while you’re at it._ Draco scowls at a girl worshipping Potter’s feet in front of everyone. Or, that’s what it looks like, anyways. From the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, he can’t hear much of what she’s saying, but she must be sucking up. She’s twirling her hair between her fingers, touching his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear. And what’s worse? Potter is just sitting there, letting her assault him! Draco looks away angrily. 

“Jealous?” Blaise smiles.

“Excuse me?” Draco barks back. Half of the Slytherin table turns at the remark, confusion and irritation clear on their faces. Either he’d hit a nerve or he’s really having a bad day, Blaise figures.

“Are you Jealous, Draco?” Blaise wiggles his eyebrows around annoyingly. Draco groans.

“Of you? Never.” Draco starts to rub his temples.

“You know what I mean. Unless you want me to announce it, in front of everyone here.” Blaise smiles wickedly, to which Pansy gives Draco a strange look.

“I’ll see you losers in class.” Draco leaves the Great Hall with a small glance at the Gryffindor table.

-

“I told you guys, she’s just... not my type.” Harry struggles to get out the words. How does he explain this? A very beautiful woman with an attractive personality just asked him out and he said no, leaving Ron questioning his sanity, and Hermione doing that look she does when she’s deciphering something. He’s not even sure why himself, exactly, but something just feels very off about it.

“How on earth is she “ _not your type_ ”? Ron whispers as they sit down in their History of Magic class. Harry shrugs, thankful for once when Mr. Binns starts up the class with a lecture. Halfway through the lecture, he is asked by Angela Johnson about if he’ll be holding any last minute quidditch practices before their game against Hufflepuff. Shit. Right.


	9. Chapter 9

The stands at the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff Quidditch match are in an uproar. The Hufflepuff seeker had nearly knocked Harry off his broom, causing a panicked commotion from the audience. Everyone, even Draco Malfoy, is on the edge of their seat.

Harry is dizzy, seeing spots. He blinks and realizes he’s about to ram into the stands. He takes a sharp turn up and soars high above the crowd. He squints his eyes, searching for that goddamned tiny snitch. He flies lower again, feeling a little uneasy. Hufflepuff is already ahead by 60 points - and if that seeker finds the snitch before Harry-

_No. Focus. Even if you lose, it’s not the end of the world._ Just then, a snitch flies by his head, catching his attention immediately. The game is on.

Harry chases after the snitch, reaching his hand out as far as he can. He dodges a bludger and spins off and up, following every diversion. 

Finally, when he’s almost reached it, that pesky Seeker is back. He rams into Harry rather aggressively, but this time Harry retaliates. By the time they’re done fighting, the snitch is nowhere to be seen and Harry groans.

Harry looks around desperately, determined not to give up. He looks into the crowd and notices blonde hair. _Malfoy._

_What’s he doing here?_ Harry all but has time to think before he spots the snitch again.

-

“That was bloody brilliant, Harry!” Ron cheers. “You caught it seconds before hitting the ground - upside down!” 

Harry smiles. “For a while there I thought we were gonna lose.”

The Gryffindors celebrate their victory with a crowd around them. Some younger students approach them to ask questions and older students stop by to say their congratulations to their friends. Hermione rushes through the crowd and hugs Ron. 

“Amazing! I always love watching your games.” She smiles, kissing him on the cheek. She turns to Harry belatedly. “And you of course, Harry.”

“I thought you’d be studying tonight?” Ron smiles.

“I’m not gonna miss a Quidditch game for homework, Ron. Not even I’m that daft.”

“You played well.” Draco says, seemingly having come out of nowhere. Harry turns to thank him.

"Sod off, Malfoy! No one wants your opinion.” Ron says before Harry can say anything.

Draco’s face remains masked but his eyes lower. “Whatever, take a compliment or leave it. I shouldn’t have suspected someone as dimwitted as you to understand sincerity.”

“See! I knew you weren’t here to congratulate us.” Ron crosses his arms. Harry watches as Draco shakes his head and walks off. Hermione looks over at Harry with an unreadable expression on her face. “What a prat.” Ron grumbles, turning back to his teammates.

Hermione follows Ron but Harry looks back to Draco. He hesitates before running over to catch up with him.

-

Draco can feel heat rushing to his face. What does he care if the Gryffindors can’t take a compliment? Maybe he shouldn’t have handed it out in the first place. Why had he complimented them? Why is-

“Hey,” An out of breath Harry catches up to Draco. “Wait.”

Draco stops and turns towards Harry. It takes Harry a moment to catch his breath.

“It astounds me that you can play Quidditch at all with your stamina.” Draco crosses his arms.

“Look,” Harry says. “I just wanted to apologize for Ron. He can be a bit of an ass.”

Draco nods, watching as the Gryffindor party disappears into the castle behind them, leaving them alone under the setting sun. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Harry takes in a breath.

“You know, for such a brave Gryffindor, you sure do have a hard time standing up to your friends.” Draco comments.

Harry releases the breath with a slight laugh. “You’re right.”

Draco watches Harry curiously, realizing; “That’s a first.”

“What?”

“You admitting that I’m right.” Draco smirks.

Harry pauses. “Yeah well, don’t get used to it or anything as it doesn’t happen very often.”

Draco shakes his head. Suddenly he remembers his task of finding a tutor or failing. He looks over at Harry, sizing him up.

Harry’s nose scrunches up and he tilts his head, feeling a tad self conscious under the Slytherins gaze. _Is he checking me out? ___

“What?” Harry asks awkwardly.

Draco gulps. Screw it.

“Slughorn suggested that I get a tutor. Well, suggested may be the wrong word for it; demanded is more like it.”

Harry nods, remembering what Hermione had said about one of his recent tests.

“And believe it or not,” Draco continues, “You may just be one of the only people I can tolerate lately.”

Harry blushes. He looks down at the grass, taking in the compliment before looking back up and meeting the blonde’s eyes. “I’m honoured, really. I just... I’m not sure if I would be any good at tutoring.”

Draco pauses, considering. “Well, all I really need is someone to vouch that they’re tutoring me. I suppose you wouldn’t really need to do much.”

“I guess we could just... study together?” Harry says hopefully.

Draco nods, looking out at the castle and not at Harry, starting to feel embarrassed all over again. “That works.”

"Good." Harry smiles, patting Draco’s shoulder. “Anyways, I better be getting back or my friends might start to worry if they notice I’m gone.”

Draco reflects that it must be nice to have friends that worry. Harry's hand lingers on Draco's shoulder for a moment, giving Draco a small chill. Harry begins walking away but Draco hesitates. “Wait.” Draco puts his hands in pockets. Harry turns, looking at the Slytherin curiously.

“Can we... I mean... I don’t really want people to know...” Draco bites his lip. 

Harry nods, understanding. He looks down at where Draco is biting his lip. “If you want to meet in private, we can go to the room of requirements.”

Draco winces as he remembers the friend he lost there. Harry's eyes snap up to look at Draco's eyes.

Draco nods finally and as Harry turns to leave, he mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like, "Thank you, Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your comments~ I really do love reading them, and it always motivates me to keep going. I have much planned out - it's just the getting there that's slow.
> 
> Hope you liked this update, I'll try to post again soon!


	10. Chapter 10

He’s already been assigned two new projects, found out that he nearly failed a test, and _now_ he’s been partnered up (rather forcibly) with _Malfoy_.

Seriously, this may just be the worst day of Ron’s life.

“ _Harry,_ ” Ron whined, grabbing onto his friend's hand for dear life. “ _Help me._ ”

Harry pauses for a moment, looking over to the indignant blonde. Draco is sitting straight and forcing himself to appear calm. He looks anything from it, Harry notes.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s any happier about this situation than you are.” Harry comments. Ron drops his friends hand and frowns.

Just then, Malfoy looks up at Harry, a small smile playing on his lips. Ron looks over to his new partner and squirms, mistaking the look as sinister. 

“Good luck.” Harry maintains, smiling at Ron, and giving a small look in Draco’s direction. The look of annoyance on Malfoy’s face returns just as soon as Harry leaves.

“I’m going to be honest.” Ron starts, timidly. “I’m not... good at potions. So I think you should take the lead.”

Draco gulps. _Shit._ There was a time when Draco was at the top of this stupid class - but now -

“I mean, I know you’re good at this class, so it’s okay if I just... watch, right?” Ron reinforces.

Malfoy scowls at Ron. “And why would that be okay? You watch while I do all the work, and you expect that I’ll graciously grant you credit?”

Ron’s temper begins rising. “Well, what’s your suggestion, because there’s no way in _hell_ that I’m going to work civilly with _you_.”

Malfoy’s nose shrivels. “I see.” 

The Slytherin looks down at their in class assignment, scanning his eyes over the instructions. “We can split the work in two. I’ll do the first half, you do the rest.” 

_Also,_ Draco adds to himself, _the first half of this project is easier_.

Ron mulls the idea over, and after finding no better alternative, apprehensively agrees. 

-

After passing the cauldron off to the Weasel, Draco settles himself back into his chair, astonished. How had he ever managed to be successful in this class?

Draco looks out over the ingredients on the table belatedly, noticing that the Weasel was attempting to crush Erumpent horn and add it to the potion. Had he mistaken that for - _oh shit-_

“Weasel!” Draco jumps up, frantic, but he’s too late. Ron had managed to throw a handful of the now refined powder into the cauldron. “Get down you blubbering lunatic!”

Ron turns around stupidly, a confused, unimpressed expression on his face as Draco nearly dives under the closest table. “What-”

And then it happened. The cauldron behind Ron spluttered angrily, causing the idiotic redhead to turn towards it and - 

“Ah!” Ron cries as the potion explodes. Much of it lands on Ron, bubbling his skin and causing a hefty reaction to spread throughout his entire body. Draco had dodged the worst of it, but even so, he hadn’t entirely been missed by it, either. 

The class stands up, panicked. Slughorn, who had been staunchly resting behind his desk, animates suddenly. He pushes his way through the hoard of students to find the disturbed looking Ron, covered in angry looking blisters, shrieking.

“How did this happen?” He demands, gaping at the students around. It seems no one had been paying attention. 

Draco sits up, ready to offer the explanation before he hears a trembling voice croak: “It was Malfoy.”

All eyes turn deadly towards the Slytherin. _That dimwitted liar! Why I oughta-_

Slughorn squares his jaw harshly, no surprise registering on his face. “I’ll deal with you later.” He says, before addressing the shaking boy closer to him. 

-

Harry and Hermione rush into Madam Pomfrey's, after being told to wait outside for what felt like a worrying amount of time. 

“Oh, Ron!” Hermione exclaims, rushing over to his side. Harry walks slowly, to allow his two friends time to hug and - yup they’re kissing. Harry turns a little, looking around at the beautiful architecture in the large room. Exquisite windows, truly. And- is that a chandelier? No, perhaps he’s just seeing things. Harry takes off his glasses and uses his shirt to clean them, realizing it’s the first time he’s cleaned them in a very long time.

“Harry!” Ron says, and Hermione stands back a little embarrassed. “I knew I shouldn’t have been partnered with him!”

Hermione looks over to him sharply. “What happened?”

“Well, Malfoy happened, is what.” Ron explains, as if this covered everything.

Harry joins Hermione in standing beside Ron, pushing his glasses back onto his face. “You look much less red now, which is good. Well, other than your hair, of course.” 

Ron smiles. “Some things don’t change. Even when you are the victim of a Malfoy.”

Harry nods, looking off to the side in thought. Hermione and Ron carry on the conversation as Harry wonders why Malfoy did such a thing. Was it an accident? Maybe he hasn’t changed after all. _Who ever said he’s changed, anyway?_ For some reason, Harry is a little saddened by the return of his “enemy”. It had almost seemed like they were getting along... or something.

“Harry? Keep him company, will you. Ron’s not dying so I really should be getting back to class. I’ll summarize everything and catch you two up tonight.” Hermione manages with a nod. 

“Oh goody.” Ron groans, excited for the abundance of homework he had waiting for him.

Hermione slips him a quick peck on the cheek and blushes bright red. She ushers herself out of the room without another word, leaving the two best friends alone.

“How long do you reckon I have to lay here, anyway?” Ron blurts. Harry looks over, surprised.

From behind them, Madam Pomfrey answers. “Not too much longer. You should just rest for a little while.” 

Harry takes this as his cue to leave but Pomfrey waves a dismissive hand at him. “It’s alright Potter, I said ‘rest’, not ‘sleep’.”

Harry nods awkwardly. 

“Although I do believe Mr. Malfoy can be excused soon. I have to go off on an errand.” Madam Pomfrey bites her lip in thought. “Mr. Potter, would you mind seeing him off in about fifteen minutes? If I’m not back by then, that is.”

Harry opens his mouth and shuts it. _Malfoy, what’s he doing here?_

Ron groans. “Of course he’s here. I bet nothing even got on him - what a princess!” 

Pomfrey narrows her eyes. “Mr. Weasely. Don’t make such assumptions. He came to me in much the same state you were in.”

Ron’s face seems only to react more negatively to this information. 

“Right.” Pomfrey says. “I’ll be gone only a short while.” And with that she was rushing off.

Harry turns towards his angry friend who looks like he’s about to explode, much like the potion from earlier before. Somehow “ _Well, Malfoy happened, is what._ ” Didn’t seem like a good enough answer.

“Ron,” Harry begins, plumping himself down in the chair adjacent to his friend. “What actually happened?”

Ron looks over, a small smile rising in his eyes before making it’s way onto his already red cheeks. Harry ponders the expression before realizing.

“He didn’t do anything.” 

Ron’s smile only manages to widen.

“Ron!" Harry scolds. "You got him in serious trouble!” Harry can feel himself getting angry.

“Harry, come on, this is Malf-” Ron begins to defend himself.

“Obviously I know who we’re talking about, Ron, but that doesn’t justify it!” Harry stands, his fists balled. Ron’s brow furrows.

“So what, you’re on his side now, then?” Ron sits up in his bed, feeling as though he’s had enough of this infirmary. 

“Ron, you can’t take all of your frustration out on someone! That’s, that’s-” Harry feels as though he can’t find the right words. 

“Something a Slytherin would do?” Malfoy asks, appearing beside them. 

Ron splutters indignantly. “Malfoy! Why are you listening-”

“Oh shut up, Weasley. Madam Pomfrey told you I was literally _right over there_ , it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I can hear you and your pathetic argument.” 

Harry looks over to the blonde and feels as though he’s just been caught cheating, which is a very strange reaction to have - not to mention making _no_ sense whatsoever.

“Fucking ferrett! Get out of here!” Ron’s face is probably redder than a tomato by this point. 

“Think you own the infirmary, do you?” Malfoy crosses his arms against his chest, not backing down to the volatile Gryffindor. He dodges a pillow flying towards him. "Pillow fight, really?"

“No.” Harry answers. Both Ron and Malfoy turn sharply to look at Harry. He continues a little quieter; “That’s not something a Slytherin would do.”

Ron punches Harry’s arm, causing him to yelp.

“Just because you’re in a hospital bed doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you.” Harry warns.

Ron’s face changes, as if begging Harry to stay on his side. “Come on Harry, you’re not going to take _his_ side, are you?”

For a small second, Harry imagines saying yes and grabbing Draco’s hand, skipping into the sunset and living happily ever after.

“Ron. I’m not taking sides.” Harry consoles. After a moment he adds: “But, you are in the wrong here.”

“Sure _sounds_ like you’re taking sides.” Ron grumbles.

"Anyways, if you two are quite done, I'll excuse myself." Malfoy drawled, before taking the opportunity to embarrass Harry. "Oh, and Potter,"

Harry looks up, startled. 

"Meet me tonight at nine." And to add to the effect, he of course _had_ to add a wink. The look on Ron's face was worth it. 

Ron gaped, looking from Malfoy, his enemy, and back to his friend. In the shock and awe, Malfoy had quickly seen himself out. 

"Harry?" Ron squeaked. "Nine?"

Harry's eyes widened, understanding that Draco had "innoncently" been referring to their first study session, but knowing how very much Ron _didn't_ understand that. Harry laughed inwardly _"I don't want anyone to to know" my ass_.

It took Harry a moment to decide what to say, before deciding on, "I don't know what he's on about. It is Malfoy, after all."

This seemed to satisfy Ron. Harry, on the other hand, began feeling anxious for meeting up with the Slytherin. _It's just for studying. Merlin, why am I so nervous?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might have noticed by now that it seems as though I rotate using "Draco" or "Malfoy" to name Draco. This is not an accident. I use his last name when writing from a character who sees him as such; a name, a bully, a lowly Slytherin. I use Draco when either writing from his perspective or from a character who sees him as more than "Malfoy". 
> 
> ~
> 
> Hope you guys are still enjoying this. The chapters to come will include their first study session as well as the much anticipated party. ^.^


	11. Chapter 11

It takes Draco a long time to process that, _yes_ he had just said that. What was he thinking? Surely this will make their meeting to study seem absurd - not to mention, will Harry have a hard time escaping his friends since Ron knows the time?

What if Harry doesn’t show because he thought it was a joke? What if Harry doesn’t show because he thinks _Draco_ is a joke?

These thoughts and worries dance around Draco’s mind all day until he finds himself resting in his chair in the Slytherin common room. Absentmindedly closing his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest, he doesn’t notice Pansy eyeing him silently.

“Draco.” Pansy states, as if it weren’t a name but a thing. “You look oddly pensive for a Thursday night.”

Draco opens his eyes, raising them to meet hers. He ignores the rising blush on his face and speaks confidently. “Am I not aloud independent thought?”

“Well, of course you are.” Pansy scoffs. She watches him for a moment, curiosity taking over. “What were you thinking about?”

“The weather.” Draco says lazily, glancing a captivating look out the window to add to the effect.

Somehow, Pansy isn’t fooled. 

“Are you thinking about Quidditch?” She suggests.

Draco isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t feel up for lying tonight, which is quite possibly a first on his behalf.

“Pansy, I appreciate the concern, or whatever this might be, but you don’t have to look at me like I’m a tea cup about to fall off the coffee table.” 

Pansy blinks. 

“And you would do well to remember that, as a Malfoy,” Draco pauses to inwardly curse his own name, “secrets are of the essence. How else will I keep everyone on their toes?” 

It takes a moment for the brunnette to decide that Draco wasn’t worth the hassle and she drops her attention back down to the book in her lap.

Looking back out the window again Draco realises that the sun has already set, and with a quick glance to the clock, he stands. He slings his bag over his shoulder and strides out of the common room. Pansy watches his receding form with a frown on her face.

-

Harry is starting to think maybe it _had_ just been a ruse, and is prepared to leave the seventh floor disappointedly when a bright mop of blonde hair cuts off any and all thought. He blinks, watching his school nemesis walking, no - _striding_ towards him, a book bag slung over his pretty shoulder. There is a sly smirk etched permanently into his pretty features that falters momentarily as he stops in front of the Gryffindor. Harry decides to ban the word “pretty” from his vocabulary.

Harry regains consciousness and turns towards the wall beside him. Draco watches him, trying to decipher the process used to conjure a room. 

_I need a room that I can spend time with Draco Malfoy in._ But, no, wait - that sounds wrong. Harry continues pacing. _I need a room that-_

“Potter,” Draco cuts through, “the door.”

Harry shakes his head. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Draco opens the already conjured door and slips inside silently.

Harry nearly misses the sound of the door latching closed - nearly, that is. He looks up sharply, feeling immensely stupid. 

“Oh.” 

He pulls himself towards the door and steps in, immediately pleased by the room that he’s created. There’s nothing... suspicious. Nor is there anything particularly questionable, like a-

“Potter.” Harry whips his head around only to see _dear merlin_ \- “Why is there a bed in here?”

Harry’s face pales. _Yeah Harry, why is there a fucking bed in here?_

The eloquent sound of “uh,” is all that escaped Harry’s lips. To his horror, the blonde sets himself down onto the bed, apparently testing it’s comfort level.

Harry ignores the heat rising to his face as he searches for an excuse, or really any explanation that might offer itself up besides “oops, my bad”.

“It’s not that comfortable.” Draco states, sitting up with a look of contemplation. He slides off the bed and hauls his books over to a leather couch positioned next to a fireplace and bookshelf. Harry watches as the blonde begins taking out the subjects he must intend on studying.

Draco picks up a book and raises it onto his lap, opening it to a bookmarked page. 

“Do you intend on watching me study all night?” Draco asks, his eyes never leaving the book in his hand.

It seems Harry had been frozen in his temporary horror. _Right, move._

“Sorry.” Harry mumbles as he sets himself down next to the Slytherin on the couch.

Why is it that Harry keeps getting so... flustered... around _Malfoy_ , of all people? Perhaps when the guard is down and the Slytherin isn’t actively trying to hex him all the time, Harry can now see who he is. And who is Draco Malfoy? A very, very pretty, well spoken blonde. Damn.

-

Harry Potter is a lot of things, but he’s no tutor. So far, Draco has asked him all of five questions that he couldn’t answer. There was one question that he could answer, but his explanation only served in confusing the blonde further. He watched belatedly as Draco frowned, tilting his head. A frustrated sound emitted from the blonde and he slammed his book shut, closing his eyes.

“How was I ever good at this?” He complains, collapsing back into the couch. 

Harry bites his lip. “Do you need help?”

Draco opens a lazy eye to exam his “tutor” and rolls his eyes. “Right, because that’s worked so well the last time.”

Harry “hmphs”. Draco closes his eyes again and sighs. Harry watches him for a moment, almost not even aware that he was doing so. Draco starts to rub his forehead and pushes his abnormally kept hair out of place. Somehow, this is the most fascinating thing Harry thinks he’s ever witnessed. So much so, that when Draco opens his eyes and meets Harry’s gaze, Harry doesn’t even flinch. 

“Something on my face?” Draco raises an eyebrow. Harry’s thought is cut off and he moves his gaze from Draco’s beautiful, _shouldn’t-be-legal_ blonde hair to his eyes. Harry is so taken aback that he doesn’t even remember the question by this point and he’s not even sure where this sudden dementia came from.

Draco sits up straight on the couch and waves a hand in front of Harry’s face. This does it, and Harry looks away, blinking rapidly and trying to withhold a blush. 

Luckily, the Slytherin decides he doesn’t want an answer to whatever the fuck just possessed Harry Potter for a minute and reaches for another book on the table in front of them. 

-

“Wait, I actually know this.”

“Yeah but can you explain it in a way that’s understandable? I think the last time you tried to explain something you nearly started speaking in parseltongue.” Draco interjects.

“Did not.” Harry crosses his arms.

“Definitely did.” Draco nods profusely.

Harry sighs. “Can I at least try to help you?”

Draco rolls his eyes, but doesn’t complain any further.

“Okay. So in the textbook it just refers to magic that is ultimately harmless but can have extremely negative effects.”

“Yeah. How the fuck does that make sense?” Draco grits his teeth, looking at their assigned reading on _the philosophy of magic_.

“Stop cutting me off!” Harry grumbles. “Well, the reason it’s so hard to understand in the book is because it doesn’t give you proper examples.”

Draco eyes Harry suspiciously. “Are you telling me you know of an _ultimately harmless magic_ that can have _extremely negative effects_?”

Harry smiles. “You forget that I’m Harry Potter and I attract bizarre encounters with random things.”

“Oh trust me, I haven’t forgotten.” Draco says, starting to wonder what time it even is by this point.

“Anyways, in my first year I found this mirror that inexplicably showed me my parents. I would spend so much time there wishing that they were real until one day Dumbledore found me there, completely entranced, and he warned me of the dangers of such a mirror. Wizards were known to go mad daydreaming in front of the mirror - longing for things instead of doing them.” 

Draco takes everything in, before something clicks. “A mirror. In the castle?” 

“Yeah. Why?”

“Why did it show you your parents?” Draco asks, a little urgently.

“Because that’s what I wanted most in life. The mirror shows you your greatest desire.” Harry explains, and shrugs.

Draco freezes a little, implications running through him like shivers. He tries to ignore the loud and furious voice inside him, the one that’s sick from the thought that Harry Potter was truly and simply the thing he desired most in life. He doesn’t even want to know in what context, merlin forbid-

“So yeah, the Mirror of Erised is ultimately a harmless form of enchantment, but it can render terrible effects on the weak minded. Did that help?” Harry clarifies.

All Draco can do is nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm terribly sorry for how long it took to update. Hopefully you guys don't hate me too much :)


	12. Chapter 12

After stumbling out an apology and an excuse for needing to leave, Draco bolts. He isn't sure what to do with himself. How _the fuck_ is Potter his deepest desire? Is this all just some big practical joke that the universe is pulling? Has his karma finally caught up to him?

Draco takes deep breaths, trying to think it through rationally. The only problem is that in order to think things through rationally, he is forced to ask himself: _do I like Potter?_ But that in itself is in enough to make him want to pass out so he avoids that thought like the plague. Perhaps Potter had his theory of the mirror wrong. Maybe it shows you your deepest hatred.

Well, except that Draco doesn't hate Potter. He never actually has.

Fuck. 

Before he knows it, Draco has found himself parked outside a suspiciously familiar door.

And all at once he knows exactly where he is and what he must do.

He pushes open the door, scowling at the familiar drape hanging off the mirror. He rips it off, discarding it roughly onto the floor, kicking it for effect. 

Before he allows himself to look, he closes his eyes. He thinks about all the things he's ever wanted; fame, riches, power, success, property...

Except, no. That's not what Draco has wanted his entire life. That's what his _Father_ has wanted for him. The truth is, he's never known what he's wanted. His Father has pushed all of these ideas onto him for so long that maybe he's grown tired of it, maybe he's begun to resent all of these prospects. What's so wrong with a cozy, comfortable life in a small home? The Malfoy Manor has never felt like a home. He's never felt welcome to be himself - whoever that might be. Draco has always repressed anything that his Father didn't personally approve, and at a certain point, maybe he's started becoming much like his Father. Arrogant, cynical, conceited, traitorous.

Draco opens his eyes, and this time, he's not surprised to see Harry standing next to him. He's not surprised because Harry has always represented everything he could never have: caring friends, a loving family (if you were to count the Weasles, anyways), support from all walks of earth - because who wouldn't stand by the saviour? For fucks sakes he could probably ask the entire house elf community to serve him, and they probably would. But more than that, Draco has always wanted to be _good_. But he couldn't, could he? He was the son of a death eater, in cahoots with the Dark Lord, helping those that wanted to see the wizarding world crumble. He was a class A bully - he was rude, and snarky, and jealous. He didn't care about the people he stepped on to get to the top. And worst of all, he was a coward. He could stand up to anyone weak - but past that, he was a quivering mess. He even tried to kill Dumbledore. He _tried_ , but he _couldn’t_. He was afraid, and he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t disobey orders so he fucking tried anyways.

So perhaps Draco doesn't deserve such privileges. He’ll never warrant someone's respect if not for fear. He’ll never know true friendship that isn’t bought by money. He won't win someone's heart without lying.

It's no wonder he looked into the mirror and saw Harry. 

Draco didn't realize he was crying until he felt warm tears sliding down his face. He didn't bother swat them away, instead deciding to brew in his pity fest, crying until he ran dry and then crying some more.

-

The next day in classes, Harry continually tries to get Malfoy’s attention. He’s not sure why, but for some reason he feels the need to ask how he’s doing. Harry would have never realised how quickly Malfoy’s mood could change if he’d only ever seen his angry self. Now that he knows there’s more to this puzzle, he’s completely intrigued.

In potions class Harry strays away from his friends and takes the empty seat beside Malfoy. Hermione gives him an approving glance while Ron looks absolutely scandalized and nearly trips on the person in front of him.

Harry isn’t sure how, but he’s going to make this prat talk. There was something off about how they left each other last night, and he really doesn’t want to regress back to enemies. _Not when lately he’s so attracti- well... nevermind._

Professor Slughorn begins the class before Harry can get a word out. The teacher notices the two of them and regards Harry suspiciously. He rambles on about the appalling scores of their latest test and the prospect of extra credit to “potentially make up for such ingenuine test taking”.

When Slughorn leaves them be to read a couple of chapters from the book, Harry takes this as his chance.

“Hey.” Harry whispers. Malfoy looks over at him, an odd anxiety in his eyes. 

“What is it, Potter?” 

Harry smiles inwardly. At least this won’t be a repeat of the last time he’d tried to talk to him in class. “Are you going to give me my cloak back at some point?”

This catches the Slytherin off guard, who must’ve already forgotten that he still had it. “Oh. Yeah.”

Harry nods. “I was thinking I could get it from you at the party tonight.”

Malfoy appears confused. “Party?”

“It’s in the Slytherin common room... You hadn’t heard of it?” Harry is skeptical.

Malfoy scowls. Shouldn’t be a surprise that his house would have a party and not even bother to tell him. “Of course I heard of it. I didn’t realise they were inviting Gryffindors. Either way, I won’t be there.”

Harry frowns. “Why not?”

Malfoy grumbles to himself. “That stunt that your weasel pulled the other day landed me in detention.”

At this, Slughorn returns from the backroom and shushes the classroom. Harry decides to continue the conversation via note passing. 

_Your detention can’t run too late, right?_

Harry slides the parchment over to Malfoy who looks down at it and back over to Harry, unamused. He reads it and responds underneath in a neater penmanship. 

_It ends around 10._

Harry finds this to be good news and smiles triumphantly. He writes below the last message.

_I’ll see you tonight, then._

Draco reads it ands nods, pushing the parchment back towards the Gryffindor. 

-

Hermione, Ron, and Harry stand outside the portrait to the Slytherin Common Room. Ron gulps, immediately nervous. Hermione takes a step forward and turns to look at her friends. She has a serious look on her face. 

Just as Harry is expecting a full fledged lecture, Hermione surprises him.

“Alright. All of us have been through a lot. This school year is stressful. I think, in order to let off a bit of steam, we need to go in there and leave our reservations at the door. Party first, think later. And besides,” She adds with a devious smile. “I still have plenty hangover potion.”

Harry and Ron turn to look at each other much with the same shock. Ron runs up to the portrait excitedly and whispers _Acromantula_. The picture distorts oddly, paint strokes dancing beautifully, before vanishing altogether, allowing them inside.

Harry looks at his two friends nervously. Ron takes a gulp, probably already regretting his decision to attend, and goes in first.

They’re not the first people to arrive. A couple Ravenclaws are scattered around, along with a few Hufflepuffs. Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Ginny are all occupying a couch, passing around a suspicious bottle. The three of them head over to their fellow Gryffindors. Ron pulls up a chair, Hermione casts a charm to widen the couch, and Harry takes a seat on the ground. 

Harry can’t help but look around in awe. It had been years since he’d been in here. It was decorated to look festive, as Christmas was only a month away. For some reason, Harry found it surprising that the Slytherins would go out of their way to decorate for a holiday. He watches a few people who put on some music and began dancing, looking utterly careless and free. He smiles, wondering when the last he’d danced was.

“Harry?” Ron says, sticking a bottle of Firewhiskey in Harry’s face. 

“Oh, er, thanks.” He says, grabbing it and taking a swig. He cringes at the burn, and shakes his head. He takes another gulp before he passes it along.

-

At some point in the night, after everyone was properly tipsy, someone had the bright idea of playing truth or dare. It was then encouraged to be a drinking game, and Theodore Nott presented a twist: a crystal ball that would keep track of everyone. It could decipher lies from truth, and it would be the judge of when a dare was completed to satisfaction or not. If a dare is time sensitive, there are penalties for not completing it, made up by and agreed upon by the group.

“And the best part,” Theodore says, smiling a little wickedly. “Is that you can’t sober up until you finish your truth or dare. I’ve seen people drunk for an entire week straight. It’s quite the incentive.”

Quickly a few rules were made: nothing _too_ extreme, nothing dangerous and nothing that could get any of them suspended. Other than that, free reign. 

At the end of your turn you are to take a shot of whatever beverage you prefer.

All Harry could think was that he shouldn’t play; it would be dangerous. But the alcohol pushed aside these worries and assured him that not only would he be fine, but he would have a great time.

The first person to go is Hannah Abbott, who dares Ginny to do a headstand. It takes her a while, due to the amount of alcohol she’s already consumed. It’s a little unsteady and she falls over quickly, but the crystal ball deems it satisfactory.

Ginny picks on Seamus, who chooses truth. Ginny purses her lips as she thinks, her head still spinning. 

“Would you ever kiss a guy?” She asks.

Seamus laughs. “No, of course not.”

Except that the crystal ball reveals this to be a lie. Seamus pales, and he buries his head in his hands. “Shit.”

Ginny giggles. “Maybe I should’ve asked whether or not you’ve _already_ kissed a guy.”

Seamus raises his head, indignantly. “I have not!” He frowns.

The crystal ball remains clear. He’s still lying.

“ _Fucking hell_ ”

-

It takes a long time before anyone picks on Harry. For a while, he was beginning to think that he was just a bystander, watching from afar. 

“Harry. Truth or Dare.” Blaise asks, cocking his head with a gleam in his eyes.

He isn’t sure which is worse; but with everything he _knows_ he kind of _has_ to pick dare.

“Dare.” Harry winces, awaiting the worst.

“I dare you,” He pauses, taking his time. He looks over at Pansy, who’s smiling at him. “I dare you to go _rescue_ Draco from his imprisonment.”

Harry frowns. “What?”

“You know,” Pansy cuts in. “Bail him out of detention.”

“Yeah,” Blaise smiles. “And you have to do so within twenty minutes.”

Harry realises he doesn’t even know _where_ the detention is taking place.

“And,” Pansy says excitedly. “If you don’t finish in time there’s a penalty, right, Blaise?”

Blaise takes a sip of Firewhiskey, nodding. “If you don’t finish you’ll have to kiss him.”

“Don’t worry - you don’t have to do it in front of us. Even though we’d _love_ to see you snog your school nemesis. We’ll know when you’ve done it -the crystal ball will tell us.” She sing-songs, elated.

Harry gets to his feet, still a little unsteady from the alcohol. “Well, I’ll just have to bail him out quickly then, won’t I?”

Pansy winks, and Blaise shrugs. Harry runs out of the common room, belatedly wishing he still had his invisibility cloak. He traverses the halls warily, hoping to merlin that he doesn’t run into any staff. He goes towards the only place he can think of: Snape’s office. Well, it’s Slughorn’s office now, since he’s taken over as the Potions Professor, but it will always be Snape’s office in Harry’s eyes. 

He creeps outside the door, although it can’t be as quiet as he thinks he’s being - drunks never are - but it’s the thought that counts, right? 

He opens the door tentatively, pushing it open at an agonizing pace. As soon as he can he slips in the room and looks around - immediately spotting Draco. 

The Slytherin is currently in the middle of scrubbing a cauldron, but is staring at Harry like he has two heads. 

“What are you doing here?” He whispers.

“I’m here to break you out.” Harry smiles, hoping to cut the small talk and get promptly to the rescuing.

“You’re here to _what_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. It's been forever, hasn't it? I'm terribly sorry for how long this took. School and stuff, you know how it is.
> 
> Let me know if anyone is still reading xD
> 
> Thanks!


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